The ultimate battle: Draco Malfoy vs Harry Potter
by Naesy
Summary: Are you ready to RUMBLE? Warning: Story rated M for adult content, but humour pitched to a 8yo level! Alright. More like 'Humour pitched to a 5yo level'. Heh heh. DMHP. CHAPTER 5 POSTED!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I wish to make a **shocking **announcement. Harry Potter and all the Harry Potter characters are not mine. Nor are the plots from JK Rowling's published works or any of the Warner Brothers Harry Potter movies. Plus, I am writing this work of fanfiction with no intention of ever garnering a cent, dime, euro or knutt from a single word I produce. I recommend therapy to deal with the sudden trauma.

A/N: This is a story that I decided to get back to writing after a bit of writer's block with my other main fic/& sequels. I should warn you, it's as silly as they come!

I hope you enjoy it :)

**The ultimate battle: Draco Malfoy versus Harry Potter**

Draco Malfoy was more than ready to flex his Domineering-Bully muscle today. And, boy, did he need to give it a good work out. It had all but been ignored of late.

He'd been cramped up in his office for the past four weeks trying to get that bleeding Annual Ministry report finished, barely raising his head to eat, much less commune with anyone beyond the four walls of his office.

It goes without saying that he had gotten more than a bit stir-crazy: _Get me THE HELL out of here.  
_And was dying to get back to life, pre-report, as soon as possible: _I wonder what the weather has been like? Or moreover, whether there is a still a sun and a moon and a sky and a world bloody-well out there?_

And now that he was just a strong coffee and quick proof-read away from resurfacing, he thought it would be as good a time as any to remind himself of what life as Draco Malfoy was like, without the bastard report.

Honestly…he was actually a little worried that he might lose his touch if he didn't tend to the much-needed upkeep of his authoritarian skills. With a surge of fear, he realised he'd probably been anything but a dictator in the past four weeks, missing all kinds of opportunities for promoting his own self-importance. In fact, momentarily frozen with terror, he wondered if he may have even been _nice_ to some people while under the effects of his stressful-report-haze.

_Well, that won't do…That won't do AT ALL._

As luck would have it, Higgins walked in at that point, providing Draco with the perfect opportunity to grab hold of the cliff edge and hoist himself back up and out of the report writing hole.

Draco's eyes grew into pointy daggers (the _really_ hurt-y looking ones; you know, like, _fully_ scary and sharp) and his jaw became like a clenched work of steel (perfectly chiselled of course, but strong and menacing looking as well at the same time. _Heh heh_…).

"HIGGINS!" Draco's voice was nothing short of thunderous (Good. Deep and foreboding. A flawless delivery).

Draco was most pleased with himself.

He eagerly studied his victim to take note of any desired impact.

Higgins appeared to shrink to half his size, looking more like a frightened mouse than a tall, six-foot forty-something man.

…Excellent.

And then Higgins, a man who normally speaks calmly and clearly, began to _stutter_, "Y-yes…? Err…M-Mr M-Malfoy…?"

_Ber-_rilliant!

Draco Malfoy was feeling the blood flow once again to his well-toned Domineering-Bully muscle and was pleased to note, the four week hiatus had in no way caused any _major_ muscle atrophy.

Then he remembered that Higgins was still standing there.

_Oh, right. Errm. Think of something he might have done wrong. Or…make him do something for you. _

"Higgins! What did I tell you about-"

_Umm…Err…_

Oh boy, he _was_ a bit rusty.

_Oh! How about this_: "-coming into my office without buzzing through first?!"

_YES!_

Higgins eyes were now large and fearful. He seemed to be trying to form words but couldn't quite get his lips to move properly.

"Well?! Well?!" Draco continued with just the right amount of Impatience: Not so much so that it might have appeared that the man was important enough to _bother_ Draco Malfoy, but then not too little either, so that it still remained clearly obvious that Draco Malfoy could rein anyone in at anytime for anything if he ever so pleased.

The man almost twice Draco's age practically cowered in the corner and began to mutter, "B-but – b-but…M-Mr M-Malfoy-"

"Yes," Draco said, his voice now swelling with arrogance and a touch of boredom.

But Higgins was still frozen.

"Well come on -_ What_ is it?! _Speak_ up!"

"Y-you've _never_ s-said that to me before. Err. Ever."

What?

Oh. Oh crap.

Ermm. "Higgins. Look at me. Do I look like a man who has the time to tell every blithering person in this office what should be bleeding-well obvious to them in the first place?!"

"Nn-o M-Mr M-Malfoy-"

"Then do you also think I am the type of person who would allow people to just waltz into my office when ever they pleased?"

"No-No. N-no Mr M-Malfoy."

"Good. Then you will never again show your bumbling face in here without going through the proper process first."

Higgins nodded wildly. And then went to leave (i.e. was ready to run and run _fast_).

YES!!!

"Oh- Oh wait," Draco said in a now mildly excited tone. "Could you grab me one of those coffees? You know…the ones from the Muggle machine…down the hall?"

Higgins froze and raised an alarmed eyebrow. "O-of course."

"Oh, I'd _love_ a large one. And could you make it double strength? With skinny milk? Oh - and two sugars?"

"Y-yes."

Draco nodded. "Good. Good." And then Draco turned back to his report. "Thanks Higgins!" he called out breezily as he opened the report to page one and started to whistle happily to himself.

ooooo

Harry Potter was in the over-crowded elevator, squished in next to someone who smelt like salmon.

And as much as he liked well-cooked salmon on a plate, he did not like salmon-esc odour on other people. At all.

He screwed up his nose and inched towards the other direction, only to notice he had all but shuffled towards a toothless old witch with wild frizzy hair who was fixing him with a positively predatory and - _Oh-GOOD-lord!_ - seductive _leer_.

_Okay, I'll take the salmon then_, he thought and shuffled quickly back towards the stinky-fishy person.

He decided to get out three floors too early – floor four - when crazy, scary lady began to edge towards him, closing the precious gap he had just created. A second longer, and he'd be crammed in between a rock and a hard place; that is a very bad smelling rock and a very scary, quite possibly a moment away from being groped, hard place (No – not _that_ kind of hard place…get your minds out of the gutter! Besides, didn't you just read that she was positively putrid?! _Hard_ was not even entering the equation.).

Harry stepped towards the open doors, deciding to take whatever the Ministry had in store for him on this level – even if it was a Hall of Fame dedicated entirely to Umbridge; one which included life-size photos of the 'woman' and took up the whole floor itself.

He stepped out of the elevator and breathed a sigh of relief that: 1. he could no longer smell stale-old fish, 2. he could no longer feel the dirty eyes of a stale-old witch on him, and 3. there was no Hall of Fame dedicated to stale-old Umbridge on this floor. Not that there would be. _That_ stale-old _bi-arrr-ch_ was in Azkaban. Care of one not-so-stale Harry Potter.

He breathed in the stuffy office air joyfully, as if it were pure oxygen itself, and made his way towards the stairwell.

ooooo

Draco Malfoy handed the report to his long-nosed, incompetent boss Delta Pennyworth, delivering the important document a whole day earlier than it was actually due _(Ha! Har!)_. And, as Draco had hoped, the look on Delta's horse-ish face was _priceless_. Plus, she began to babble on about how, in all her years at the Ministry, she had never known of a single year in which an extension for the report was not required, much less recall a time when the report had ever been _early_.

_That's because, hello?! I'm DRACO MALFOY woman! _

He then wandered off to get some lunch with a sprightly spring in his step but not without first sneering at the new kid in accounts, death-staring the grumpy middle-aged witch who always wore clothes that were hideously too-tight for her, followed by a particularly delightful look of distaste sent random-person-he-did-not-know's way.

All persons on the receiving end of such undeserving attention visibly shuddered as he passed by.

_Heh heh…_

Was there anything he could _not_ do?! Was there any one he could _not_ stand over? No, it seemed. Oh…it was _good_ to be back!

He knew he was overusing that Bully-Domineering muscle of his – but, so what? It could withstand all kinds of abuse, surely.

And anyway, he was feeling positively alive again, for the first time in a whole month.

He walked into the men's room and caught his image in the reflection of the mirror.

_Draco Malfoy you sly old snake, you. Are you not just the fucking _greatest_ -or what?! _

He swept some hair out of his eyes and looked approvingly at his twenty-five year-old face and body.

_No, my friend. Not only are you fucking gorgeous. But you have the world at your finger tips. At your delicate, perfectly shaped finger tips._

YEAAAAAH!!

_Oh yeah, I'm the greatest, I'm the greatest, Oh yeah…_he began to sing in his head.

It was all he could do to stop from dancing a little jig-of-self-love on the bathroom floor.

oooo

Harry raised an eyebrow. "So, when you say you want me to come and work here…what exactly do you mean?"

"I guess I mean: Come and work here."

Harry rolled his eyes. "_What_ do you want me to actually _do_ here?"

"Well…turn up at 9AM. Sit at a desk. Complete some menial tasks we've set for you. Take a long lunch. Waste time and chat by the water cooler for the better part of the day. Walk around with a busy-look on your face whenever possible. And avoid that evil woman Meryl – she _is_ fucking evil, I swear. And leave at 5PM _sharp_, and that's it."

"…Why?"

"Because we have to pay you overtime if you stay _beyond_ five o'clock."

"_No._ Why do you want me to work here?"

"Oh. Well. A whole bunch of reasons."

"Such as?"

Ron suddenly looked around, over one shoulder first, and then over the other. "Because something _big_ is brewing Harry," he whispered with large eyes.

Harry leaned forward and matched Ron's hushed tone and enlarged eyes, with a hint of amusement. "What?"

Ron bit his lip and paused. "I can't say."

Harry looked at him in alarm and then sat back, crossing his arms across his chest. "What?! So…You want me to take a job – a _nothing_ job, by the sounds of it - at the fucking Ministry of all places - for some apparent big, important reason, that you can't in any way explain to me?"

Ron frowned and said hesitantly. "Yes."

"Fair enough. When do I start?"

Ron blinked. "What? Just like that?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

"Well, I thought you would have tried to, you know, get a bit more info out of me."

"Oh, well, do you want me to?"

"No, no."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"Alright! Fine! The extra bit I wasn't sure whether I should tell you about or not was this: I'll need to set up a team, a _special_ team…very soon…and I've been given strict instructions that the team must be made up of _current_ staff only."

Harry nodded slowly. "Okay. Sounds intriguing." And then he went to stand and leave. "Good. So, I'll see you tomor-"

"Wait-wait. Aren't you going to try and ask what the team is for?!"

Harry sunk back down into his chair and looked at Ron humorously. "Why _Ron_. Why don't you tell me what this special team you speak of is for?" And then he continued dully, shaking his head and rolling his eyes, "And, before you try to brush me off, I won't take No for an answer. I…mean…it. You'll tell me and that's all there is to it."

Harry may have yawned mid-way through that last part.

But Ron grinned. "Fuck Harry you're pushy! Fine! Have it your way then! Okay, it's a special team to do with something you're really good at…and something you absolutely love!"

Harry nodded. "Hhmm. Cryptic. Anything else you can tell me but supposedly don't want to?"

"Yes! I'm hoping that, if I get my way, you'll also be _running_ the whole team."

Harry's eyebrows shot towards his forehead. "Really?"

Ron nodded excitedly. "So…you'll start tomorrow?"

"Sure."

"But Harry. You've got to keep this all quiet."

"Don't worry Ron. Mum's the word on the whole Quidditch World Cup organising team thing," Harry whispered.

Ron's mouth dropped open. "What! How did you know?!"

Harry walked towards his door and pointed to the sign. "You're doing Bagman's old job Ron. As if it _wouldn't_ have something to do with sport. Plus, you know…those hints… 'something I like'… 'something I'm good at'…there is only one sport that fits into that category."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Fucking - sometimes I forget that you did Auror training and can piece together little bits of information like a bleeding Muggle detective."

"Yeah. _And_….I can also read Top Secret memos that are sitting on top of your desk, right in front of me." He smiled and turned. "Bye Ron. See you tomorrow."

oooo

Draco Malfoy kept catching his reflection in shop windows as he walked down the street. And it only served to boost his feelings of self-importance today (which, by the way, were already reaching previously _unheard-of_ levels).

He walked into The Smokey Dragon, a fine dining restaurant magically hidden within the Muggle part of town, and ordered a goat's cheese pasta with a celebratory glass of white wine. He sat back in his chair and, raising his glass to no one, made a toast to HIMSELF and wondered, quite seriously, if his estimations of how long it would take for him to be Minister for Magic were off. _Way_ off.

Perhaps he'd get to that cushy all-powerful job _even earlier!_

In case you still hadn't quite got it, I will point out very clearly that Draco's confidence was _on fire_ today. In fact, in this instance, it would be completely reasonable to wonder why his head had not yet blown off and zipped up into the sky like an over-inflated hot air balloon.

Now, when Malfoy was feeling such _extreme_ confidence…the world had better watch out. No one was safe from his sneers. Old ladies, small children – even an inanimate post box _and_ a street sign he didn't much like the look of received malicious icy glares.

A short while later, he coasted towards the Ministry building, walked through the entry way, crossed the foyer and headed towards the open elevator doors.

And was overcome by an awful-fishy smelling person who was standing right fucking next to him! Fucking Merlin! He sneered at them and then stepped obviously away with a loud retching, guttural sound that he in no way tried to hide. Only to find himself confronted with a fucking old harpy who appeared to want to jump his bones. Well, fuck No! You can't! So piss off!

But then he realised, he'd only said that in his head and she was still looking at him like all her merry little Christmases had come at once. "In your fucking dreams woman," he said venomously at the banshee, the drug of power and over-confidence rushing through his veins.

"In fact…" He moved his arms around his body in a large circular fashion, forcing all present company in the elevator to move away from him and into the cramped corners of the small square space. "That's right people. Step aside. Further – no, _further_. Especially You smelly person – _and_ You, banshee woman. Good."

Tension filled the small elevator compartment while Draco Malfoy merely whistled merrily to himself and wondered if the Minister got their own private elevator. One which was completely harpy and stench free. Scratch that. One that was always empty, kept free for only him.

oooo

Harry headed towards the door to the stairs for fear that the elevator was still not safe. Merlin knows why he had the feeling that it still might not be, but something just told him to avoid it like the plague.

Instead he went with the bright idea of stopping on the floor three flights of stairs down and visiting Hermione.

Only, it turned out to not be such a bright idea. Not the catching up with Hermione-part. That was fine. Hermione was actually able to chat with him for a few minutes before her pathological commitment-to-work appeared as if it was about to get the better of her.

No, the bad part of it was….Draco Malfoy. Draco bloody Malfoy. And right now? He'd take salmon-smelling person, toothless witch, _and_ Umbridge Hall of Fame over this.

From Hermione's cubicle, Harry could see Draco Malfoy sauntering along the hallway like he _owned_ the place. But the last time Harry checked, this was the Ministry _of Magic_. _Not_ the Ministry _of_ _Malfoy_.

…Wasn't it?!

Just to be sure, Harry glanced quickly at the sign above Hermione's desk and was relieved to see the Ministry had not in fact changed names (Well, the Malfoy's had a _lot_ of money…who knew what they were investing in these days…).

Good.

But with a second attack of fear, he checked the business cards on Hermione's desk too – just to be on the safe side - and was, once again, overjoyed to see the word _Magic_ and not _Malfoy_ in clear black writing next to the words _Ministry of._

Thank Merlin. He'd just accepted a job here! Imagine working as pretty much one of Malfoy's fucking underlings?!

Harry didn't need to look up to know when Malfoy had finally spotted him. The guy had a gaze that was almost audible (like a screaming yelling person, standing right by his ear), if not physical (like a fucking hot poker sticking into him from a distance).

But, Harry Potter was not that easily perturbed…not even by screaming in his ear and hot poker thingys. The _more_ the _merrier!_

Okay, maybe _not_ the 'more' the 'merrier' as such…because ear drum damage and hot poker injuries were not really his _thing_ and he could probably do without them both to be quite honest.

The point is…

Mr Draco Malfoy?

Bring. It. On!

A/N: Chapter 2 is on it's way…


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I've increased the silliness setting to MAXIMUM.

Here's hoping I make you giggle...

oooo

Harry Potter? Here…?!

_Well, well, well…Potter certainly chose THE WRONG DAY to meander into Draco Malfoy's lion's den! Muhahahaha! I mean…snake pit…erm, whatever…_

Draco _mentally _tilted his head to the left and then the right and jumped up and down on the spot several times in his mind, to limber up and loosen his muscles.

And then, he was ready.

Draco Malfoy fixed his most precious sneer on Potter, the one he saved for those he most _sincerely_ loathed.

The trap was set. Now…would the bespectacled deer take the bait?

A split second later and Harry bespectacled deer Potter glanced his way.

And retaliated. He met Draco's gaze and leisurely rested against the desk behind him, raising an unimpressed eyebrow Draco's way.

_Oh – OH. _So _that's _how it's going be is it?Draco felt a whirl of excitement charge through his body at the challenge, burning excitement that was for good reason. No one _ever _took him on. Apparently, Potter was the only one stupid enough to even dare.

_Well then Potter, take this!_

Draco upped the thinness of his lips, the top one curling upwards slightly and hovering, almost impossibly, in that precarious position.

It was a work of art, really. And Draco was certain that, in his twenty-five years of life, he had never given a sneer as quite good as that one. Even a blind-as-a-bat old woman five hundred feet away would have retreated in fear in response to that one.

But Potter's gaze remained unmoved! His eyebrow was still fixed in a raised way and then he merely crossed his arms, as if to say: _Oh come ON. Is that seriously the best you've got? I'm waiting…boring, boring, boring…_

Registering the raised stakes, Draco concentrated _extra _hard and narrowed his eyes even more, ensuring that nothing but pure hatred was transmitted through his beady stare.

And then…

Harry Potter yawned.

Yawned while looking at Draco Malfoy _dead in the eye_.

While looking at Draco Malfoy's _BEST EVER SNEER!_

Fuck!

It was at that point that Mary Bobbins approached Draco with some forms he needed to review and sign. He had never been so relieved to see the annoying shit Mary in his entire life. Not that he let it show. He was the master of restraint, after all. He was the MASTER OF EVERYTHING, after all.

When he raised his eyes again, however, Potter was gone.

oooo

The following morning, Harry entered the foyer of the Ministry building on his first day of work as a…as a…erm…hmmm…

Perhaps he'll just keep you posted on that one.

And headed towards the elevator, only to think twice about it.

It really was a stupid thought, though; it wasn't like people of the salmon-persuasion and horny old witches hung out in the Ministry public elevator all day was it?!

Surely not.

Still. That crazy old witch had a crazy-sexed look in her eye. And Harry Potter was an incredibly _innocent_ and _untouched_ young man-

_Author:_ (_Ahem_).

_Harry:_ ...What…?

_Author_: (clears throat) Innocent…and untouched?

_Harry_: Yeah.

_Author_: You really want me to describe you in that way?

_Harry_: Of course. What...?! I am too! No. I really am! Well….okay - except for that _one_ time…and not to mention the day that I…oh (_heh heh_), yeah – I forgot about that…okay-okay, I forgot about those other times too. Fine! _Mostly_ untouched – at least not touched much _lately – _thank you for reminding me…but I am still _sort of_ innocent – from a certain, completely unbiased point of vie-

_Author: _(Coughs)

_Harry:_ Okay. Fine! From a completely _biased_ point of view! Are you happy?!

_Author:_ (Smiles) Of course, Harry.

_Harry:_ Good. Anyway, I thought these sections were supposed to be sort of written – for the most part - from _my _point of view – even if it's in the third person! So, you can't just go around writing whatever you like if it doesn't represent my thoughts.

_Author_: (Sighs) You're right.

_Harry_: Course I am! Now let's get back to the bleeding story!

So, back to Harry's reticence to travel via elevator to floor seven…

He looked at the closed elevator doors warily and decided against it. Even though he was an oft-touched -

_Harry:_ (Groans)

- but not a hell of a lot lately

_Harry_: (Groans louder)

- man, who was as innocent as a forty-year old working girl with a penchant for drizzling whipped cream and caramel sauce on-

_Harry: Excuse_ me?! Do you _MIND?!_

_Author:_ Sorry! (Tee hee!) Perhaps that was going, err…a little too far…Was just having…you know, a bit of fun.

_Harry:_ Hhmmpf!

_Author:_ (Tilts head to the side) I'm really sorry.

_Harry:_ (Sighs) That's okay…just get back to it…and keep it truthful.

_Author:_ But the caramel sauce and whipped cream was not exactly a lie-

_Harry:_ Shut UP! (Blushes)

_Author:_ Okay (Smiles sheepishly).

Anyway, to cut a long story short: Harry took the stairs over the lift.

_Harry_: Thank you. _Finally_.

_Author_: No problem.

oooo

Draco Malfoy strutted through the crowded Ministry foyer like a Bee Gees song was playing out loud while he moved. Thankfully, he held back on the urge (and it was actually quite a strong urge) to spin in the spot, point knowingly at the moderately good-looking security guard by the desk, whip his comb out of his pocket and slip it coolly through his hair before continuing on towards the elevator doors.

He knew that Delta Pennyworth, and all the other powers that be, would be part-way through his exceptional report by now. And, soon, he would be SHOWERED with praise. Which was good, because…He was nothing short of a GOD. And, he could do NO WRONG.

In case scientists weren't aware that someone's narcissistic tendencies could get even worse, here's proof: They can.

Draco smiled to himself and wondered when his next promotion would come. Tomorrow? Next week? Surely no longer than three weeks at the most. He'd bet it would be almost instantaneous. He grinned.

And then, at that thought, the very _innocent _and _untouched _Draco Malfoy-

_Draco_: What...?

_Author_: Oh. Sorry. The other main character had a problem with me referring to them as, well, as anything _but_.

_Draco_: …Really?

_Author_: Err. Yeah.

_Draco_: Well, that's - that's just stupid.

_Author_: Yeah, I know.

_Draco_: Well, please don't refer to me like that again.

_Author_: Alright. What would you prefer?

_Draco_: Ermm…how about…_worldly_…and _enigmatic_…?

_Author_: (Pauses, biting back smile) Okay.

_Draco_: (Nods) Good.

Back to the story. The elevator doors opened and the very _worldly_ and undeniably _enigmatic_ Draco Malfoy-

_Draco:_ (Beams)

- Stepped inside, only to find that the smelly-fish person and gag-worthy old witch were in fact all-day elevator-riders who obviously did not know when to take a hike and leave!

A look of horror overtook Draco's face. "What _the fuck?!"_ And then he frowned menacingly. "Right, that's it. Out! You too. Out! Go on – Go!" He pointed harshly towards the doors and ensured that the two offensive people followed his directions immediately.

"And _don't_ come back!" he said, brushing his hands with enormous satisfaction. The doors closed and he smiled to himself, glad the elevator was now completely free. Free from bad odours and old witches who in no way made him want to think about whipped cream and caramel sauce because she was _awful_ and, anyway, he wasn't _into _that kind of thing.

_Draco_: ...What?

_Author_: Oh. The err…other main character didn't want me to mention their err…fondness for…you know…using whipped cream…and umm…caramel sauce…and so I just thought I'd make it clear that you, in no way, liked those things either.

_Draco_: …Whipped cream and caramel sauce…? Really…?

_Author_: Oh. Erm. Yeah.

_Draco_: …Is it…a guy?

_Author_: Who?

_Draco_: This other main character.

_Author_: Oh, yeah. He's a he.

_Draco_: Oh. Well…is he…you know, good looking?

_Author_: (Nods slowly and repeatedly) Definitely.

_Draco_: Oh. I see. And, well, he wouldn't happen to be…you know, gay or anything…would he?

_Author_: As a matter of fact…

_Draco_: Really? And single?

_Author_: Yes, as luck would have it.

_Draco_: Well. Do I - do I get to meet him?

_Author_: Oh (Stifles a chuckle), I'm sure you'll meet him.

_Draco_: Really?

_Author_: I guarantee it.

_Draco_: (Grins excitedly)

oooo

"Morning Harry."

"Hey Ron."

"Here's your desk. I tried to get you the best one. I'm sorry it's by the hallway, but at least that means you'll catch the lady with the tea trolley before the fucking devil-incarnate, Meryl, steals the best scones. Anyway, once you're," Ron tapped the side of his nose and winked, "_you know_…you'll get a much better desk. Your own office. One with a view."

Harry shrugged. To be honest, he didn't much care. "So. What life-changing jobs do you want me to do today?"

Ron raised his eyebrows. "None."

"Oh. Well, got any more token-like tasks for me to complete then?"

Ron furrowed his brow, thinking the question over. "Erm. No. None that I can think of."

Harry nodded. "Well. Any idea what I should do?"

Ron smiled. "Just do nothing."

"Huh." Harry plonked himself down on the office chair. "Well. It might be a bit hard to fill an eight-hour day with that, but I'll give it a go."

Ron nodded. "Yeah. It sounds hard, but you'd be surprised. You get used to it pretty quickly."

"Well, I better get started then."

Ron nodded and walked away but then stopped suddenly and turned back. "Oh wait! I thought of something you could do."

"Really?"

Ron _Accio_'d _The Prophet_ from an empty desk across the hallway and handed it to Harry. "Can you tell me if the cartoons are worth reading today?"

"Sure."

"Oh and, I have a lunch meeting so I can't eat with you today. But, could you let me know what the cafeteria food is like? They've recently changed the menu."

"Sure thing boss. I'm on to it. Consider me your man for the job."

oooo

Draco had been daydreaming nonstop all day, his mind constantly wandering to vivid images of promotions, praise and, strangely, whipped cream and caramel sauce as well, so much so that he almost completely missed lunch. He thought about making someone like Higgins get it for him but then figured stretching his legs for a bit would do him the world of good. Only, it was 3PM and all decent food joints around town would be closed for lunch by now. Grumbling slightly, he made his way to the staff cafeteria, at least thankful that the place would be pretty much empty by now.

Draco took a seat and began to eat the miserable food, when the group of older ladies at the table in front of him stood to leave. He looked in the direction of the emptying table, only to find a pair of eyes behind the shuffling ladies that stopped him dead in his tracks. Green very familiar eyes that belonged to a very familiar looking wizard seated several tables away.

Potter.

Again?! Twice in two days? _What?!_

_Round 2 went as follows:_

Draco Malfoy, Best Ever Sneer (he had to give it a second shot).

Harry Potter, chin shoved on hand and eyebrows then drawn together as if Malfoy was: A Complete Mental Case.

Draco Malfoy, creates _new_ Best Ever Sneer– this time, by adding a very slow shaking of head from side to side with it.

Harry Potter, creases forehead in an overt display of "You can't be serious".

Draco Malfoy, makes mouth kind of suck inwards a bit, as if eating a lemon, and pairs it with a sour, bitter look on his face

Harry Potter, leans back flippantly in chair and crosses arms, then flicks his hair casually out of eyes and cocks his head to one side - all while maintaining gaze.

Draco Malfoy scoffs and then moves in for the _piste de résistance_ of all manoeuvres. Hands flat on table, he leans forward, his hair slipping slightly across his eyes and then he fixes Potter with such an intense, piercing gaze that few would dispute it meant: _I'd kill you now if I had the chance._

Harry Potter, opens his big fly trap…

And belches.

Loudly. And proudly.

A/N: My most humblest of apologies for that last joke! I promise to elevate the humour from seriously low-brow to - if not high-brow - at least mid-brow...or maybe low-to-mid-brow in Chapter 3!


	3. Chapter 3

What _the fuck?! _

Sweet Merlin.

Draco could almost see Potter's _tonsils!_

And Draco did not even want to think about the wave of fucking Potter breath that had probably reached his air-space by now.

Not that he actually cared.

In fact, it was a good thing that Potter did not faze Draco in the least. (i.e. Draco _did not all_ gulp as soon as he could to ensure oxygen that was free from Potter's breath remained in his lungs – just like he _did not at all_ then fear he might have just, instead, sucked in a whole _lungful _of Potter breath – which was good because following that he _did not at all_ exhale quickly and then completely freak out, unsure whether to actually breathe or not – and, finally, he _did not at all_ then find himself overwhelmed by a lack of oxygen which forced him to suck in some air right away, to make sure he continued to stay alive.)

Meanwhile, Potter stood with a smirk, and oxygen-deprived Draco, who was not at all panicking and gasping for air, somehow managed to watch the smug-faced git then exit the cafeteria. That is, casually exit the cafeteria….

…as if he'd WON.

But he _hadn't_. HARRY POTTER HAD NOT FUCKING WON.

One could not claim victory by just standing and leaving…that was absurd!

Standing up and walking away in ANY rule book Did Not equate to WINNING.

Hell, Draco could have stood up and walked away at _anytime_ himself. At ANYTIME. Before he even _saw_ Potter! _How would you have liked THAT hey Potter!_ _That sure would have shown you who was winning here…._

Okay, maybe him walking away a slight second or two _after_ they spotted each other might have worked a little better.

But, either way, Draco could have done the walking away in an instant. It just as easily could have been HIM.

And anyway…as disgusting and infantile as it was, burping was NOTHING.

NOTHING!!! Potter just did: NOTHING!!

Oh - This was WAR!

WAR!!!!

…Of course, Draco thought again, it was a good thing that none of this bothered him. None of the previous few minutes, since he spotted Potter, had bothered him in the least….

And his plastic fork, clutched tightly in his fist, _did not all_ then break into two…

oooo

"Hey, how was the cafeteria food?" Ron asked half an hour later.

Harry stood in the doorway of Ron's office and shrugged. "Pretty awful."

"Oh good! That's great. The food has _definitely_ improved then."

Harry elevated an eyebrow but decided that, although hard to believe, it might _actually_ be possible for food to be worse.

"So. Why are you back so soon anyway?" Ron asked, yawning and turning over to the cartoon section in The Prophet.

Harry frowned. "I was sitting in the cafeteria for _six_ hours!"

"Oh right. So, why'd you leave?"

Harry frowned again. "Well…I don't know. Might have had something to do with the staff starting to eye me off strangely for staying so long…and that was _three hours ago!_ And then, I was starting to get a little tired of being levitated so that the cleaning-witch could sweep under my chair…the last time she almost _left_ me up there. But, after twenty minutes of staring at my dangling feet, I finally got sick of it and called out to her."

"Huh."

"And anyway, after she put me back down…the spawn of Satan turned up."

Ron's eyes widened. "Umbridge?!"

"No."

"Snape?!"

"No."

"Lavender Brown?!"

"No."

"Victor Krum?!"

"No."

"Barty Crouch Jnr?!"

"No."

"Peter Pettigrew?!"

"No."

"Voldemort?!"

"NO RON! No! Unlike all of those people, it was someone who actually _isn't_ in jail, or _dead_, or living _outside_ of England for that matter."

"Oh no - Was it that buck-toothed ugly cretin Damon who keeps hitting on Hermione?!"

"No. Ron. For starters, I've no idea who you're talking about. So, seen as I've never even met the guy _or_ heard of him - I doubt I'd recognise him if he turned up in the cafeteria, much less refer to him as 'the spawn of Satan'."

"Oh. Right."

"It was Malfoy, Ron."

"Lucius Malfoy?!"

"NO RON. _Again _– I'll point out, it was someone who is actually _alive_ and _not_ in jail and still living _in England_."

"Oh – okay…"

Harry paused, still waiting. But realising his friend was not coming through with the goods, he offered up the answer. "It was _Draco_, Ron. _Draco_ Malfoy."

"Oh yeah. Figured you two would cross paths eventually. He works down the other end of Hermione's floor."

oooo

Two hours of thinking about events with Potter (that did-not-at-all-bother him in the least) later, found Draco sitting at his desk with a not-at-all worried frown on his face.

And, being as sharp as a tack, Draco Mafloy came to a very, _very _significant realisation.

_Eventually_.

In fact, his thought processes (in order of occurrence) went something like this:  
_Potter fucking SUCKS!  
SUCKS.  
Fucking sucks.  
I want to kick that stupid SMARMY GIT IN THE FACE!  
The BELCHING, STUPID SMARMY SMARMY GIT!  
What a tosser. A TOSSER.  
Honestly, who belches like that? WHO BELCHES LIKE THAT?!  
I'd like to take his stupid burping face and-_

This went on for some time.

And then he moved onto this:  
_Why in the fuck have I just seen the bastard here twice in two days?  
I haven't seen him in years.  
Stupid Git.  
Stupid, stupid Git.  
I'd like to wipe that stupid grin right off his stupid face.  
Stupid, stupid…  
He sucks. He just fucking sucks._

Yes, he regressed back to those insults for a while. And, no, his insults did not become any more creative than that.

Next train of thoughts then went as follows:  
_And why was he eating in our _staff_ café?  
Why on earth would Potter be sitting in the staff cafeteria of all places?  
Stupid, smug speky git.  
Thinks he's just so great.  
He sucks.  
He just fucking sucks…_

Some five minutes later:  
_He was dressed in office attire.  
Why was he dressed in office attire?  
Stupid fucking Potter.  
Fucking, fucking Potter…_

Ten minutes later:  
_He works here…  
The bastard works here…  
HARRY POTTER FUCKING WORKS HERE!!_

Yes. He was a little slow on the uptake.

And, Yes, he then went right on back to this:  
_Stupid, fucking git.  
Stupid, stupid Potter…_

oooo

Ron crossed his arms and frowned. "Malfoy's a dick."

"Yeah. Yeah he is."

"An absolute dick."

Harry nodded. "Right you are Ron."

Ron shook his head. "I mean…what a tosser…"

"Too right."

"A stupid, stupid git."

Yes, Ron was just as creative as Draco Malfoy when it came to dishing out insults.

"Absolutely," Harry nodded again.

"A class A, first grade prick," Ron continued.

"Yep. Couldn't agree with you more."

"Thinks he's the greatest."

"Yeah."

"A pompous bastard."

"Mmm. I know."

"What a loser."

"Yep."

They sat in silence for five seconds.

"Well I'm glad we had this talk," Harry finally said.

oooo

BUZZ!

Draco frowned and leaned over his desk, pressing the button on his intercom.

"Yes?"

A crackling sound came from the speaker in response. "Mrerr Mfry. Hgn hrr…yr cff…"

Draco screwed his face up in confusion and pressed the button again. "What?!" he said in reply into the intercom.

"Hggn shrr…sd hnds tbzz nn-"

_-High pitch electrical feedback screech-_

"-frsrt…evn tho sd-"

"-Wait – I can't hear you-"

"bt hjud inss thd ibzz-"

"What?! Speak up-"

_-Screeeeech!_

"Wait-"

More indecipherable noise.

"Huh?!"

Even more indecipherable noise.

"Just-"

_-BUZZ!_ _Screeeeech!_

"Oh for the love of-"

Draco stood and walked out his office door and took two steps to the right. "What. Is. It. Deidre?!"

Deidre leaned back on her chair and pointed to the man standing beside her. "Higgins has that coffee for you. Said he couldn't bring it in until he buzzed through first. Kept saying some crap about 'proper process'. I told him that was just plain crazy and that you wouldn't mind in the least - but he wouldn't listen to me…"


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, Harry Potter walked somewhat less-enthusiastically across the Ministry foyer for his second day of 'work' as a….'Position Title Still Pending'.

He made a bee-line for the elevator, finally convincing himself that the elevator would surely be safe for his _supposed _untouched-ness by now.

_Harry_: (grumbles under his breath)

He drifted past the moderately good-looking security guard and resisted the urge (and it was quite a strong urge) to use his _never-fail_ approach: starting with the casual messing up of his hair with one hand, then the sweeping of some hair out of his eyes with his finger tips, followed by the stretching of his arms lazily over above his head, then finished off by the show-stopping shy-yet-a-little-bit-hopeful smile.

_Author_: Heh heh. Never-fail? And you think you're innocent. Innocent my ars-

_Harry_: (Slaps hand across forehead) Fine! I'm not that totally innocent! I've been around the block a few times! Are you happy?!

_Author_: …heh heh! Sorry...

_Harry_: (shakes head in hands)

_Author_: Look, if it makes you feel any better I actually think your never-fail technique is quite...adorable...

_Harry_: (Lifts head hopefully) Really…?

_Author_: Yes. _Very _cute. (Smiles) I can see how it works for you. Had you of used it just then, that security guard may not have known what to _do_ with himself.

_Harry_: (Looks at hands shyly and chuckles) Thanks…

_Author_: (whispers softly to readers)…particularly because the security guard is not gay…

But as Harry walked past the moderately good-looking security guard - who had only just escaped from the enticing boy-next-door charm of one Harry Potter -

_Harry_: Aww… (gives 'show-stopping shy-yet-a-little-bit-hopeful smile' that he held off on before)…heh heh…

- not to mention, escaped from Harry Potter's ready to use buckets of whipped cream and, on stand-by, gallons of caramel sauce-

_Harry_: (Mouth drops open) I have cream and caramel sauce in my fridge because I like to eat them _on top of fruit! On top of my fruit -_damn it!

- when he heard the security guard say to someone, "…we've had a few complaints about the elevator recently…some people were verbally attacked and then roughly forced out by another person in there recently…yes, we're looking into the matter…"

What?!

Well, _that_ settled it. It was the stairs for him again today. There was no way he was chancing that crazy elevator – what with dodgy-smelling people, scary old witches, and _now_…man-handling forceful people too?!

oooo

Draco Malfoy swaggered across the Ministry foyer with renewed energy and enthusiasm for HIMSELF.

For, he had _not at all_ stayed up half the night ruminating about the Potter situation and then he had _not at all_ finally come to the realisation that if Potter worked here, then Draco would have a chance to _beat him_ - and beat him _good _- in a third and final Round to end all Rounds.

Yep. Potter WAS TOAST. And Draco Malfoy was feeling _gooood_ again.

Draco coasted past the moderately good-looking security guard like he was nothing short of a smouldering fire: languid casual steps and smooth swinging of his arms, exuding confidence and an air of nonchalance. And then, he drew his lips into one killer of a smile (one that was only partially for the security guard but mostly for HIMSELF).

Draco watched out of the corner of his eye and was instantly delighted yet _not at all_ surprised to observe that the security guard had not only noticed him – but was carefully taking in Draco's every move as he floated on by. Yep, he was watching him _like a hawke!_

Sounds of the Bee Gees rang through Draco's excited head again. He resisted the urge (and it was quite a strong urge) to look back at the security guard and give him a "You lucky sod! Draco Malfoy is currently checking you out!" upward and then downward lingering glance. For Draco Malfoy was not _that _easy to snare.

As Draco headed towards the elevator and then watched the doors close after he stepped inside, he wondered, in a purely off-hand manner (one which was totally unrelated to anything that had previously been mentioned in this story thus far) whether any shop nearby sold innocuous grocery items such as whipped cream and caramel sauce and other fine foods along those lines.

_And _if a random person, such as someone like...let's see...the security guard - knew of such a nearby establishment. In fact, Draco might just ask him tomorrow.

"Well you can tell by the way I use my walk I'm a _hot-arsed_ slashy man - no time to talk…" he began to sing to himself in the elevator, grinning ear to ear and nodding his head in time with the music he was currently making.

Completely oblivious to the awkward looks on the faces of those around him.

oooo

"Where are you going?" Ron asked.

"To the cafeteria. Remember? You just told me to go there."

"Yeah – I _know_ that. I mean, why are you taking the stairs?"

"Well, I haven't much liked my elevator experiences in here of late. And plus, I heard there had been recent reports of someone roughing people up in there…"

"Oh. I heard about that too. It was awful. And, you know what? Some really prominent Wizengamot members were the victims."

"Really?! Shit. That does it. I'm _always _taking the stairs."

"Hey, I'll come meet you at midday. We'll have lunch together. I'll see if Hermione is free as well."

"Sounds good. See you then. And, if you can't find me, just look up. I'll be the one dangling in the air."

oooo

Draco's status as a deity was now firmly back in place. He had a plan for Potter, should Potter stumble _his_ way again, and a plan for a moderately good-looking security guard who was all but gagging for him, should Draco ever bother to stumble _his_ way again, and a plan for locating completely innocent grocery items should he suddenly develop a craving for sweet foods.

Of course, his new burst of power meant only one thing...

"HIGGINS!" Draco bellowed into the older man's office.

Higgins spun around on his chair in surprise. Fear suddenly clouded his eyes. "Y-yes M-Mr M-Malfoy…?"

"Did you-"

Erm.

Ahh crap! …we're here _again?! _

_We've been through this before Draco! Just hurry up and fill in the fucking blanks!_

"-read…that…memo…?!"

Higgins looked at him strangely. "Ww-hat m-memo…?"

"The memo -the memo -You know," he said quickly in an irritated tone.

"Errm. Memo…?" Higgins eyebrows clung together as he tried to recall a memo. "Can't recall any…memo…don't normally have many memos here…Oh, wait! – the one from six weeks ago?"

"Yes-yes! That memo. _Of course_ that memo!"

Higgins looked at Draco strangely.

"Well? –Well?!"

Higgins gulped. "Mr Malfoy…_I wrote_ that memo."

oooo

Hermione's eyebrows darted upwards. "Really?! Wizengamot members?! That's so frightening…"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I know."

"Well, who were they? Which ones?"

"Well, one was Dalby. Do you know him?"

"No." Both Hermione and Harry shook their heads.

"Short guy. Brown hair. Mousy looking. Always wears brown clothing?"

They both shrugged.

"No? Well. Nice guy. Been around for years. He's a fish Animagus, you know. Salmon, I think. Always goes for a dip in the Ministry's pool before and after work…"

Harry froze.

"The other person who was attacked was Hennie. She's is a seer – although, as luck would have it, she's completely blind. Can't see where she's walking let alone see people in her way. Poor old Hennie. She's such a sweetie. Awful dental hygiene, yes, and hair kind of like your's Hermione, err - _pre_-smoothing spells, that is, and not at all as pretty as your's - but Hennie…she's just the dearest old thing you'd ever have the pleasure of meeting…"

oooo

Draco Malfoy headed towards the cafeteria, figuring that a stupid git like Potter would no doubt choose to lunch there everyday, what with the crap they tried to pass off as food.

He focused on his plan and knew that – although Potter had _not at all_ won last time – there was no way that Potter was winning _this_ time!

Because Draco Malfoy wrote the book on intimidation. And no one – NO ONE could possibly outwit, outsmart, outdo him in any battle of any sort.

He walked through the cafeteria doors and bit back his excitement.

There was Potter. Seated between Granger and The Ginger Weasel.

At that very second, each member of the Golden Trio glanced his way.

Round three was ON!

oooo

Hermione, Ron and Harry stared in the same direction with dumbfounded looks on their faces.

After several minutes, Hermione eventually spoke.

"...Was that just Malfoy?"

Harry almost couldn't find his voice. "Yeah. I think it was."

"Did he – did he just laugh at you – for a split second - and then run away?"

"Yeah..." said Harry slowly, still riddled with disbelief. "I blinked - so I almost didn't see it...but I think he did..."

oooo

A/N: Credit for Draco's very humble line "Well you can tell by the way I use my walk I'm a (hot-arsed) slashy man" goes to Kismet, who on her 19th birthday not only decided to read my fics - but review them as well! -Giving me this funny little line to play with! Thanks Kismet!! (and who knows? That line may well come up again in a future chapter! And, if and when it does - it could well be quite significant for our favourite "Laugh & Run Away - Take _That _Potter!" blonde)

For all other reviewers, feel free to throw me lines that I can weave into the story as well!!

Lastly, for anyone that may be concerned, don't worry, this is still a H/D fic...you'll soon be feeling the love :) And, I promise - it will be worth the wait!


	5. Chapter 5

They all blinked still staring at the doorway Malfoy had pretty much _bolted_ out of.

"Why on earth would Malfoy do that…?"

Harry frowned, mulling over the question that had just been posed. "Erm…I think that may have been…pay back…"

Ron and Hermione each raised an eyebrow and looked at Harry curiously. "For what?"

"We've been having a…err, stare-off competition."

"A what?!"

"A stare-off competition. You know like, I stare at him – he stares at me…the first one to flinch - or something equally as bad – umm…loses."

Hermione and Ron looked oddly at Harry for what felt like ten hours but was probably more like ten seconds. Under their disturbed gaze, Harry suddenly had an overwhelming desire to giggle nervously and then run away. Until he remembered that someone had already covered _that_ today and that someone was the very reason why his two friends were currently _looking so gobsmacked_.

Ron suddenly snorted. "A _staring_ competition?! _Wow_ Harry. No wonder you were the one destined to kill Voldemort -_Ouch!"_ said Ron now rubbing his freshly poked arm. "_Harry_…"

Ron raised an annoyed but cocky eyebrow at Harry, pointing at his affected arm. "So Harry, is _that_ how you killed Voldemort too-_Ooopf!" _

"No – it was more like that," Harry smiled innocently. Ron scowled, now rubbing the back of his freshly whacked head.

"So…just for staring at Malfoy," Hermione began, "he's tried to... sort of…cackle out loud at you –and then he's, what? Just darted away?"

"Err. Yeah. Kind of looks that way."

"Well," said Ron sarcastically. "He sure showed you." Ron laughed gleefully to himself, clearly delighted by the whole event.

Hermione's brain however, was still ticking over as she munched on her beef and vegetable stew. She drew her eyebrows together, "But this is just so odd. Malfoy is a very calculating guy. I'm surprised he'd do something…like _that_. He's always in control and so…composed."

Harry nodded. "I think he must have gotten…desperate."

Hermione and Ron looked at Harry with interest.

"…I may have…burped at him yesterday."

Ron's chair fell over and a pea, that Harry could have sworn shot out of Hermione's _nose_ - and not her mouth, bounced across the table in front of him.

Their laughter did not die down for at least ten minutes.

Okay, it was more like fifteen.

Alright, twenty.

oooo

Hee heheeeeee! Haaa hheeee heee! Hiiieeeee heeee!

The laughter in Draco's mind continued for about just as long too (although, it was strangely more high-pitched and somewhat more delirious sounding than that of Ron and Hermione's).

His heart was racing. His breathing was shallow and quick.

The enormous rush of adrenalin he had felt when Potter's eyes fixed on him had taken him by surprise, sure, but – who cares?!

Draco had done it! He had just claimed VICTORY against Potter!

And he was ecstatic. Ec-_static!_

Harry Potter – the stupid man who walked away had just been beaten at his own game – at his own _walking away_ game!

Draco bolted up the stairwell with such fervour and elation he almost sprouted wings and flew the rest of the way up. And then he ran down the hallway like he had just ingested a whole bottle of eye-popping liquid energy. He didn't notice the odd stares on the faces of his co-workers as he whisked on by at the speed of light.

One thing was for certain…a naked little dance of victory was soon required in the privacy of his own office. As soon as he got the chance!

In case scientists thought Manic episodes were not likely to present in people with Narcissistic Personality Disorders, here's proof to the contrary.

oooo

"Malfoy's a turd," Ron said proudly, rocking back on his chair with a smirk.

"…Yeah…" Harry said absent-mindedly as he toyed with his napkin, barely listening to his friend. His mind was now on the strange behaviour of a certain strange blonde.

"An utter moron."

"….Mmm."

"I mean, how clever is that?! Laughing and then running off?"

"…I know."

"Not very _creative_ is he?" Ron said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms across his chest with great satisfaction.

"…No."

Ron shook his head. "He's such a git."

"…Yeah."

"A conceited prat."

Harry nodded vacantly.

"What an arse."

Harry nodded vacantly again.

Silence.

Harry cleared his throat, "…Well….once again….I'm glad we had this…enlightening chat."

Ron nodded a very pleased thank you for the 'compliment'.

"-Yeah but, _damn_…" Hermione sighed, "he's downright _dreamy_ looking these days."

Ron's chair fell again to the floor with a _bang!_

And, as for Harry…should he have been attempting to swallow a pea at that point in time himself? It would surely have come up and out of Harry's nose too - with such incredible velocity… it would have taken someone's eye out…

oooo

Draco was still high on the elated feeling of winning when he barked at Higgins to get him a coffee.

Draco was still delirious that he had just laughed at Potter - in public, too - when the annoying shit Mary Bobbins came to him with some more forms to sign.

Draco was still giddy at snatching victory from Potter ten minutes later when he heard that Scrimgeour and Delta Pennyworth were on their way up to see him.

Draco was still thrilled by thoughts of what Potter might do next when Scrimgeour began to ramble on about how great-something-_blah blah_-report-something was; for Draco was not paying attention, instead heavily distracted and nodding at random intervals.

Draco was still barely able to contain his excitement over thoughts of when he'd next see Potter and what his reaction to Draco would be when words like 'promising future' and 'possible promotion' passed over Scrimgeour's lips, not at all sinking into Draco's ears.

Draco was suddenly not so high and whiter than white in the middle of the meeting when he cast his mind back to just _how_ he claimed his 'victory'...step-by-step…and it suddenly occurred to him….

Did - Did he just giggle at Potter…and then run away…?

Oh lord no.

No way. That's not at all how it happened. Of course not!

He smiled to himself. He was DRACO MALFOY. There was NO WAY he did something like that. Instead, he was certain it was more of a _sinister_ laugh – well-contained, deep and definitively arrogant – and the running away was more like a slow and confident _swagger_.

"And that's why we wouldn't be surprised to see where you are in a few years from now Mr Malfoy…"

Yeah. It was definitely a swagger and an arrogant laugh. No doubt about it. He smiled again to himself.

And, thought...as soon as the annoying noise-makers in his office, who were distracting him from all his Harry-thoughts (e.g. Scrimgeour and Pennyworth), bleeding-well left his office, he knew…It was time to shut the door and nude up!

oooo

"What?!" Hermione merely shrugged. "It's true. He's _gorgeous_…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

She rolled her eyes. "He _is_…"

Ron, now upright again, pulled his chair out and took a seat. Fury was just _radiating_ from his eyes.

Suddenly Harry knew that should he ever say he saw the spawn of Satan again to Ron, Ron would now – and _only_ _now_ - have no problem offering up Draco Malfoy's name, straight away, as the possible 'spawn' in question.

As if to confirm Harry's thoughts, the next words out of Ron's mouth were: "Hermione. Malfoy's the _spawn_ of _Satan_. The spawn. Of **_Satan_**."

Harry's timing may have been off, way off, but it suddenly occurred to him that, years ago, he should have told Ron that Voldemort hit on Hermione (or stole the best scones from the tea trolley). Then…_maybe_…just maybe, Ron would have killed the old bastard himself…

….and saved Harry all the trouble.

oooo

Realisation finally hit Draco and it hit him hard. _Very_ hard.

His legs were suddenly unsteady and he felt incredibly faint and sickly.

Holy fuck…

He sank into his office chair. His hands shook as he raised his fingertips to rub his temples.

_No…it couldn't be…_

He trembled at the thought.

"Deidre?" his voice wavered, as he pressed the intercom button. "Get Higgins in here…_Now_…"

oooo

Harry was alone once more in the staff cafeteria. He frowned to himself, his mind clouded by certain thoughts…

Dreamy?!

Ha!

Gorgeous?!

Ha!

Hermione was _crazy_.

_One minute later:_

Dreamy?!

Ha!

Gorgeous?!

Ha!

Hermione was _bonkers_.

_One minute later:_

Dreamy?!

Ha!

Gorgeous?!

Ha!

Hermione was _an utter loony_.

_One minute later:_

Dreamy?!

Ha!

Gorgeous?!

Ha!

Hermione was _plain_ _barmy_.

Well, his job didn't exactly provide much distraction…

oooo

"Mr Malfoy, Deidre said you wanted to see me –_Yeewurrghghh!!"_

Draco was lying naked on the couch in his office, clutching a small pillow to his chest and staring up at the ceiling with a positively grief-stricken look on his face.

"Err…Mr Malfoy…? You're – you're _naked_…" Higgins hyperventilated.

Draco sighed wearily. "Higgins…oh…_Higgins_…" he groaned. A deep, intensely-worried frown darkened his usually light face. "What's _wrong_ with me…? Something is very, _very_ wrong with me…"

Higgins took a few tentative steps forward. "Mr…Mr Malfoy…? Is everything…alright…?"

"I don't get it Higgins!" Draco suddenly blurted out angrily. "He's just stupid Potter! Stupid Potter! The stupid specky idiot I used to tease at school with no problem whatsoever! _I'm_ the one who's supposed to do the intimidating! Me! ME!!!"

"What…? Potter…?" Comprehension of what was going on came to Higgins at that point in time. "Oh. Mr Malfoy," he sighed. "What happened…?" he said in what he hoped sounded like a warm and concerned voice – attempting to hide all trace of _he's fucking naked!_ from his voice. Well, he _was_ seeing more of Draco Malfoy than he ever wanted to at any point in his life. More than he would in even an amphetamine drug-induced 'lets get back to the free-loving 60s' state. "Tell me what happened…" he continued carefully.

Draco breathed out a ragged breath and hugged the pillow into his chest, looking forlorn. "Where do I start…?"

"Just start at the beginning Mr Malfoy…" Higgins said absently, trying to spot the blonde man's clothing around the room but he couldn't find a single item. Malfoy must have cast a spell to make them disappear completely from his body.

Draco nodded sadly to Higgin's gentle urging and rested his chin on the pillow. He began to retell the 'horrors' of his recent encounters with Potter in all their 'horrific' glory.

Higgins nodded and added the occasional, "Oh _no!_", "Really?", "He did _what?!"_ – partly to give a show of support to the upset man, but mostly to distract him while he hunted around for things to levitate over and drop onto the naked man's exposed lap. It needed all the covering it could get.

Luckily, the shattered man was so severely shattered that he didn't notice the folder, ten sheets of parchment, and waste paper bin that ALL eventually ended up on his naked lower half as he continued to share his Potter-woes with Higgins…

oooo

Gorgeous?!

Ha!

Dreamy?!

Ha!

Hermione was-

"-Harry…?"

Harry spun around. "John! Wow. Long time no see. How are you doing mate?"

"It _is_ you! I'm pretty good. Hey, I heard that you'd returned to England and taken a job here." John elevated an eyebrow. "That's quite a turn of events." Harry nodded. "So, how's it all going then?"

Harry shrugged. "Not bad. I haven't come across Scrimgeour yet, so – _heh, heh_ - so far, so good."

John laughed and nodded. He knew all about Potter's need to keep away from that man. "How long do you think you'll be able to avoid him?"

"As long as possible." He grinned. "Hey, how are _you_ these days?" Harry asked.

John rolled his eyes. "Well. I'm still in an uninspiring, dead end job, surrounded by uninspiring people, and, I've got no desire to climb the corporate ladder. Plus, I can't retire for at least another decade. So, it's all a blissful existence really. Hey, we should do lunch one day!"

Harry smiled. "I'm sure I'll find a way to squeeze it into my really, _really_ busy schedule."

"Oh. Not much happening then?" John asked with a smirk in his eye.

"No. I'm in a fake role at the moment."

"Oh right. They're not bad. Was in one of those myself a few years back."

Harry nodded. "Well, how about next week some time? Maybe Friday or something?"

"Yeah. Sounds good. I've got to head off…I have an errand to run but good to see you and I'll owl you about that lunch!"

oooo

"Higgins…? I'm a scary man, aren't I? Intimidating…and all of that…?" Draco's face was squished against the couch arm. His legs were still splayed out across the couch pillows and he was cradling a newly acquired bowl of fruit topped with whipped cream and caramel sauce in his hands.

A mountain of stationery items was precariously covering his manhood.

"Oh yes Mr Malfoy…you're _very_ scary…" Higgins said, pouring Malfoy another a cup of tea. "The mere mention of your name and I often develop a serious case of hives…"

Draco nodded, taking a large quantity of cream and caramel sauce, with just a hint of fruit, into his mouth. "That's what I thought too," he said nodding and then licked the spoon vacantly. "And…I'm cold and calculating too…aren't I…?"

"_Absolutely_ Mr Malfoy. The coldest and most calculating I know." Higgins dolloped some more cream into Draco's bowl for him. "Like a…frozen snowman...in an advanced maths class..."

Draco drew in a deep breath and exhaled longingly, nodding sadly. "Yes. That's what I think as well. And…I'm brilliant…I have a very sharp mind, don't I?" he said, waving his spoon firmly in his hand, hoping to emphasise his point.

"So sharp you almost poke my eye out with it some days," Higgins said, casting a quick spell to stop some stationery items from tumbling off the other man's lap. "At least it often _feels_ like I'm at risk of eye-poking some days…" he muttered under his breath.

"Good. And, I'm stunning too…Aren't I? -Aren't I?" Draco asked with an almost childlike, need to be affirmed, look on his face.

Higgins poured some more caramel sauce over the mass of cream in Draco's bowl. "Were I not heterosexual…married with three children…grappling with a serious sexual dysfunction - of the erectile persuasion…and treated like a subordinate of yours on a day-to-day basis, even though we earn the same amount of money…Well…I would _most certainly_ make a play for you."

Draco nodded. "That's what I thought too." And then he sighed and took another large mouthful of cream and caramel sauce into his mouth...

oooo

Harry had just entered the stairwell when he heard a rough yet familiar voice wander through a doorway two floors above him.

"Yes Delta, I'm taking the stairs! _Merlin_ Delta - I've told you this all before! There's no way I'm getting in the lifts in this forsaken place when the likes of Hennie Horvarth keeps trying to turn that place into her own little love nest - _with me in it!"_

Fuck! Scrimgeour!

"Don't scoff Delta! That woman is always one step away from ruddy-well _leaping_ on me! What…?! She is! I'm _very_ rugged…"

Delta laughed. "She's _blind_ Rufus!"

"So?! Doesn't seem to stop her from wanting to get a taste of the old Rufus here though, does it?! I'm a very innocent and, well…not often touched man…"

_Author_: (shudders and whispers to the readers) _Oh no way…I'm not touching that one…_

"I feel like my poor manly body is about to get wildly violated whenever I am in her presence…like she can't wait to rip my clothes off and…"

_Author_: (blocks ears and starts humming 'a happy song' to self)

_Harry_: Can you please write me out of this scene?

_Author_: No!

_Harry_: (frowns) Why not?!

_Author_: I didn't just introduce this whole Scrimgeour thing out of the blue for nothing!

_Harry_: Bugger...

"Anyway, the point is - the minister really needs their _own_ elevator…"

"Yes well, you _used_ to have one Rufus."

"Don't remind me Delta. The things Arthur Weasley changed around here while I was in that coma for two years after the war. From Muggle coffee machines to damn Muggle intercoms…honestly…do you know what those rubber chickens - the ones that are in every supply cabinet - are supposed to be for?!"

"No. No one does. But, I really think you should have taken retirement…you deserved the break…"

"Thankyou Delta. But, you know as well as I do that no one wanted this job – not even Arthur…"

Harry slipped into the first door he came across, breathing an enormous sigh of relief. And cursing the author's name under his breath...

oooo

"Mr Malfoy. You look _exhausted_. And I don't think a third bowl of whipped cream, caramel sauce and next-to-no-fruit is going to help matters much either."

Higgins took the bowl from Draco's almost limp hands and placed it on his desk.

"You know what I think? If you have a good sleep tonight - I'm sure you'll wake up feeling fresh and new again. Just like your old self. And, besides, there'll be other opportunities to feel...inappropriately powerful again…you know, by stooping to...outright…psychological 'violence'…and Wizengamot deemed 'illegal in the workplace'...bullying tactics…"

Draco sighed. "You're right." He nodded. "You're right…and, I _could_ do with some rest. In fact…that's probably the problem here. Lack of sleep. Of course…I haven't slept well since I first saw Potter!"

"Really…?" Higgin's eyes grew large with interest.

"Oh my…" Draco suddenly sat upright. "My goodness! Why…that's IT! My uncharacteristic behaviour has _nothing_ to do with _Potter_ at all! It's just due to completely unrelated sleep deprivation that coincidentally began when I first saw Potter!"

One of Higgin's eyebrows quirked at Malfoy's interesting brand of logic, but he decided to let it slide. "See Mr Malfoy…? Just get some sleep, and you'll be right as rain."

"I will!" Draco said, suddenly standing to his feet dramatically while all manner of office items, including what appeared to be a rubber chicken, fell from his lap and met the floor. "Some good sleep! And I'll be on top of the world again! Intimidating whom ever I see fit!"

"Speaking of intimidating…Mr Malfoy? Erm. You're still…_naked_…"

But Draco didn't hear a word the annoying noise-maker in his office was making…Draco was back to being the centre of the universe…and that's just where he belonged.

oooo

A/N: No peas were harmed in the making of this story. However, rubber chickens did not get off so lightly...

TBC!


End file.
